


Boys Raised Badly

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-11
Updated: 2006-03-11
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:11:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8086666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: A lazy Sunday gets busy and so do our boys. (05/11/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Shhhhhh Secret Mother' Day Challenge Fic issued to thank our lovely ListMom Sarah on Mother's Day. Challenge requiredâ€”T/R preferred, humour, NC-17 or PWP and mothers.  
  
Beta: The lovely Leah/Maching Monkey helped with clarity, physical logistics and turned this story into a lean mean fighting machine, just like Malcolm. Though I'm a stubborn one so any mistake are mine, all mine and I aint gonna share.  


* * *

After five years of exploration, adventures and yes, often-dangerous missions Trip Tucker and Malcolm Reed were enjoying an extended rest on Earth. The men had made a concerted effort to plan two weeks of rest and relaxation, interspersed with the occasional family visit, like today. Trip had been most insistent, much to Malcolm's perplexed amusement, that the Reed's come "a visiting". Trip had even dragged Malcolm through countless shops to find the "perfect encapsulation of your feelings for your mother". Malcolm handled it all with his typical stoic demeanour and let Trip's enthusiasm take him were it would.

Now with _the_ present found and dinner prepared, the two men were enjoying the quiet Sunday afternoon. Trip had just finished the spring fever edition of "Eager Engineers." He tossed the magazine down and immediately fidgeted with boredom. He glanced around the room and spied Malcolm ensconced in the latest "Guns and Guys". Trip smiled to himself as he looked at Malcolm. Even lying across the couch he was still the picture of a perfect soldier. The smile widen, Trip had found something to ease his boredom. His mission, which he chose to accept, debauch Malcolm and expose the man under the uniform, literally and figuratively. He untangled himself from his chair and stalked over to Malcolm. Kneeling on the couch next to him, he ducked his head under the PADD that had his lover so absorbed. With a grin and a cheeky "Hi," he kissed Malcolm on the nose.

Malcolm laid his magazine carefully aside and wrapped his arms around Trip and returned the "Hi", this time punctuated with a full, on the lips, kiss. Trip deepened the kiss, his hands finding their way under Malcolm's shirt. His nimble engineer's fingers started to massage the strong muscles there. He shifted so he was lying across Malcolm's body. As one their bodies started to move to the oft-remembered rhythm. Malcolm stopped suddenly, gulping for breath as he turned his head away from the kiss. Trip swivelled his head seeking Malcolm's mouth again.

"Mmm. not here, love."

Trip removed his questing hands from under Malcolm's shirt, twining them instead into his dark chocolate hair, holding it steady so sweet lips could meet again.

Malcolm shook his head side to side in avoidance, "Trip, please, not here love. Please stop."

Malcolm's pleas made their way into Trip's passion-fogged brain. No matter how far along Trip was, he would stop as soon as Malcolm asked him to—Well, OK, sometimes it took a couple of words—but Trip would always stop eventually.

"Mal, what's wrong?" His words came out in harsh puffs as he struggled to regain his composure.

"Nothing's wrong, love." A tiny peck on Trip's nose emphasised his words. "I thought we'd better move this to the bedroom before we got too carried away."

"Bedroom?" Trip blinked at Malcolm with comical confusion.

"Bedroom." Malcolm repeated. "It's a room with a bed and quite often a door."

"Na huh. Too far. Stay here." Location decided in his mind, Trip's hand returned to exploring Malcolm's body.

"Bedroom." Malcolm batted gamely at the exploring hands. "It's just down the corridor, Trip."

"Still too far. I'll lose my inspiration."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "The bedroom is half a minute away. I'm sure you'll keep your 'inspiration.'"

But I'm feeling very inspired now." Trip thrust his hips to show Malcolm how close he was to inspiring.

"Trip, the bedroom. Please. My parents will be here anytime soon. Please . darling?"

Trip knew he had Malcolm the moment he uttered "darling". It was always the last verbal weapon Malcolm used. And this weak effort signalled to Trip that Malcolm was ready to concede. A victorious smirk crossed Trip's face and he closed in to stake his claim. Tongues once again dallied, each man inhaling the other's frantic breath. They broke apart momentarily to take off their shirts before rejoining, their hands revelling in the feel of unencumbered naked flesh. After a few more minutes of kissing they broke apart once again, this time to divest themselves of their pants. Which proved their downfall. Trip hunkered when Malcolm shimmied, hips collided, legs tangled, hands flailed as the two men found themselves overbalancing and tipping unceremoniously on to the floor.

Trip leered down at Malcolm, who was currently pinned beneath him. Malcolm struggled, trying to get his twisted limbs into a better position, his face glaring up at Trip with "I told you so" plainly written on it. "This would never have happened in the bedroom," he hissed.

"I know Mal—my point exactly." Trip smirked and dove in for a searing kiss.

Malcolm relaxed as Trip extended the kiss, exploring Malcolm's body with gentle pecks and nips. When Trip was absorbed in his lower rib cage Malcolm struck. With lightning reflexes he tightened his legs around Trip's hips, lifted, pivoted and flipped himself over so Trip was now on the bottom.

Malcolm smirked down at the surprised expression on Trip's face. "Your venue, MY position." He sprawled over Trip, kissing and licking all the available naked flesh. He traversed the golden body beneath him, snagging on Trip's half-removed pants. He barked a sharp "lift!" and at Trip's compliance whipped them completely off. Trip grinned up at Malcolm and hooked his hand around Malcolm's head, dragging him down for a kiss. The kiss ended with both men gasping for breath and Malcolm sat back, his chest heaving as he fought to control himself. He reached over and opened the little knickknack drawer in the coffee table. Behind the pack of cards, the candles, and the bits of string that had no real purpose, hid a small, but handy container of lube. After few moments of rummage Malcolm emerging triumphantly with the lube. He placed it carefully on the centre of Trip's chest, safe out of harm's way. He shimmied once more, this time without any interfering hunkering, and took off his own pants.

Malcolm flipped the lid off of the lube and scooped some out with his fingers. Staring Trip straight in the eyes, he leaned forward slightly, reaching behind to prepare himself for his lover. Trip could only watch, mesmerised.

Trip panted in time to Malcolm's movements, his eyes never once leaving Malcolm's. He gasped as Malcolm finished preparing himself and wrapped his slippery hand around Trip's eager penis. Malcolm and Trip kissed briefly and then Malcolm shifted lifting his hips so he was poised over Trip's cock. With his head thrown back and forehead furrowed in concentration, Malcolm lowered himself steadily onto his lover's shaft. Both gasped when Trip was fully sheathed in Malcolm.

For a moment the two men seemed frozen in time, but then their physical need broke the spell. They started to thrust and counter- thrust in a well-practiced dance. Malcolm held tightly to Trip's sides to keep his balance as Trip started to lose control. Then Trip reached between their heaving bodies and took a firm grasp of Malcolm's cock. There was no rhythm, no finesse in his stroking, but Malcolm didn't need any of that to bring him to completion. With a stifled cry, he came. Trip quickened his thrusts, desperate to follow his lover over the edge. Finally he thrust one last time, and joined Malcolm in ecstasy.

They lay together, still joined, panting harshly as they tried to calm their breathing. Suddenly Malcolm startled. "Did you hear someone, Trip?'

Trip gently brushed his hand over Malcolm's hair. "It's just the earth settling back down babe. Happens every time."

* * *

"Mary, what on earth are you up to?"

Mary Reed, mother, wife and current plant kleptomaniac, blithely ignored the comment. "Stuart, these are Teasing Georgia's, do you know how rare these are?"

Stuart Reed, husband, father and long-suffering gardening widower, rolled his eyes at his wife's enthusiasm. "Mary, I don't care if they're the King of England, I swear if you take out your cutters I'll ."

"You'll what, Stuart? Take me over your knee? Oh no—that's right we did that last night."

"Mary, please," Stuart blushed furiously in the waning sunlight "we're in public."

"Oh Stuart, you try so hard to be proper," Mary laughed gently at her husband. "Don't forget I've seen you in a . OH!"

Stuart glanced sharply at Mary's soft exclamation. "Mary?" But Mary didn't seem to hear him; she stood transfixed, staring at the window. With a heavy put-upon sigh, Stuart picked his way through the little garden to his wife. He stepped close and peered over her shoulder through the window. His mouth dropped open as he repeated Mary's earlier exclamation "OH!"

Mary jumped, twisted and pulled Stuart down all in one movement. They crouched out of view for several moments, desperately trying not to breathe too loud. After a few minutes had passed they crept, bent almost double, back past the pathway down to the gate and out of view. They straightened their sore backs and just stared at each other, both lost for words. Stuart broke the silence eventually, his face pinched with emotion. "I thought we had raised that boy better, Mary."

"Stuart, please. Don't be too hard on him."

"No Mary, there will be no excusing his behaviour this time."

"He got carried away by the moment Stuart. We've all done that."

"Be that as it may, he should still know better."

"But Stuart."

"No buts, Mary. ANY respectful human being knows: you ALWAYS close the drapes. Especially when you are expecting guests." Stuart finally lost control of his emotions, collapsing in a laughing fit into the equally amused arms of his wife.

Mary wiped the tears from her eyes. "God, Stuart, it brings back memories. Remember when we were first married and your old battle-axe of an aunt walked in on us?"

Stuart chuckled in agreement "The old bag looked like she sucked on a lemon." His eyes twinkled and he smirked. "Or is that fucked a lemon?"

"Stuart, please. We're in public."

"Goose, gander, Mary. So what are we going to do till those boys sort themselves out?"

Mary sidled up to Stuart. "Well I don't know about Stuart, but I've been meaning to check the suspension on our new ground car."

The blush quickly returned to Stuart face. "Mary—this is a public street!"

"Well, unlike our own misguided son, I was raised correctly. I made sure I got the privacy screens options when I bought the car. Now hurry up and I'll let you punish me for trying to steal those rose clippings."


End file.
